


Merry Destiel and a Happy Sam

by Petra1999



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Gift Exchange, Holding Hands, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28284045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra1999/pseuds/Petra1999
Summary: Sam, Dean, and Cas celebrate Christmas in the bunker. Just fluff all the way down, really.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 56





	Merry Destiel and a Happy Sam

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a collection of drabbles but yeah...
> 
> The song mentioned at the start is [Jingle Bell Rock (Daryl Hall & John Oates version)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b3HvAbKtZtE).
> 
> Thanks to [my sister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khyarra) for motivation, beta-ing, and many of the fluffy ideas (especially the gifts). I beta'd a [15x20 coda](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28284681) for her that you should definitely check out.

**i.**

It's December 7th, and it's the first frosty day of the season. The bunker's heating system is turned up slightly more than usual, and its inhabitants stir in their beds as they slowly wake up. 

Sam goes for a run, Dean makes breakfast while Cas sleeps in. They got into a certain rhythm here, and there were almost no hunts in the past month. They're safe, and warm, in their home. 

Sam comes back from his morning jog with a big smile and an idea. He wants to celebrate Christmas this year. Cas is on board immediately, asking about all the traditions he has never experienced, a warm smile tugging on his lips, and Dean's stoic visage melts at it until he finally agrees to exchange presents on Christmas morning. Sam checks where they could buy a tree, and Cas looks over his shoulder at Sam's phone with a sparkle in his eyes that makes Dean almost excited for Christmas, too. 

Not three days later the bunker is filled with a loud e-guitar solo coming from the sound system. Dean enters the war room dramatically, nodding along. Sam looks up from his research, laughs. Before he can say anything:

 _Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,_ the song starts, and Dean mouths along, plucking the strings of an invisible guitar. 

_Jingle Bells swing,_ he walks towards the table. Sam is still staring incredulously, and Dean looks at his brother too, face mock-serious. Cas, who's next to Sam, stares too, eyes wide, slight puzzlement edged into his features. 

_and Jingle Bells ring,_ Dean turns to look at Cas for this one, moves around the table, closing in, puts a hand on Cas' shoulder, leans down-

 _Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun,_ Dean continues to mouth along next to Cas's ear, not close enough to be intimate but close enough to make Cas' face flush red, Sam notices as his eyes flicker back and forth between Dean and Cas. 

_Now the jingle hop has begun._

"In a holiday mood?" Sam teases his brother. Dean straightens up, moves towards Sam, shrugging to the rhythm. 

The lyrics continue, and Dean lets himself enjoy the moment without shame. They are home, they're about to do a simple salt-n-burn just one state over, and then they'll be back here, Sam and Cas and him, and they'll celebrate Christmas. For realsies. Dean can't wait. 

**ii.**

Sam and Cas are in the kitchen doing the dishes - Sam washes the plates and Cas towels them off - when Dean returns from his grocery trip. He sets down the heavy bag next to the fridge, then throws his hands up into the air as he steps closer to his brother and Cas. 

"Guess what I bought," he says excitedly. 

Sam scoffs and turns to look at him. "Something edible, hopefully?" 

"Pie," comes Cas' guess as he continues to dry the dishes. It isn't a bad guess. 

Dean smirks and claps his brother on the shoulder. "Baking goods - I read a recipe and everythin'. We're making cookies," he announces. 

"Really?" Sam asks, glancing at the bag. He walks over and pulls some of the stuff out - flour, milk, cartons of eggs, and a small box of cookie cutters. Dean takes them from Sam and throws the box on the counter next to where Cas is standing. He rips it open as Sam stores their food in the fridge and cupboards, then turns it over to empty its contents on the countertop. Cas glances over, interested. 

"Cookie cutters," Dean explains, and Cas meets his eyes and nods, towel and plate still in his hands. He looks at the shapes a while longer, then goes back to drying off dishes. Dean huffs, unsatisfied with Cas' reaction. He picks out one of the cutters and slides it towards Cas. When Cas doesn't look at it, Dean puts a hand on Cas' hip and tugs gently. Cas looks up like a deer in headlights, staring first at Dean and then, at Dean's nod downwards, at the cookie-cutter. It's the shape of an angel. 

"Chose those for you," Dean explains, voice not quite as cool as he hoped. 

"Oh," is all Cas can get out. Dean's hand is still on his hip, softer now, almost hovering over the skin, but not quite. The points of contact seem to burn hot. 

"You like them?" Dean asks carefully. "You can use them to cut out the cookies later if you want." 

"Yes," Cas replies, staring at the small metal angel, "I'd like that."

Sam watches them, observing Dean's hand on Cas. He can't help but smile and decides to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed, to give these two some privacy. 

He comes back an hour later, drawn in by the smell of freshly baked cookies. The kitchen floor is covered in flour, and empty pots are all around the messy countertop. Dean is wiping it off as good as he can, and Castiel is kneeling in front of the oven, staring into it, assumingly to watch the second batch of cookies bake. 

Sam clears his throat to announce his presence and steps closer to look over Cas' shoulder. 

"Looks good," he muses. 

"They do," Cas agrees. His hands are covered in flour, his shirt is crinkly and the top button unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. 

"Made Cas work hard for those cookies, huh?" Sam asks in Dean's direction. 

"Yeah, well, he's probably gonna eat them all anyways, so it's only fair," Dean says and turns around to face him. He has flour on his cheeks and the top of his nose. Sam wonders how that happened. 

"I will eat exactly a third of them," Cas promises, eyes still on the prize. 

Sam chuckles. "Are you gonna decorate them too?"

"Nah," Dean says. "I know you like 'em plain. And it's probably good for Cas too, the first taste should be _pure_." 

Sam gives a satisfied huff. "You've got flour on your face by the way." 

Dean raises his eyebrows at him, then quickly turns away and rubs his face, muttering "No, I don't..."

**iii.**

Dean insisted that watching Christmas movies is an important part of the winter holidays. Sam agreed, but it turns out that Sam meant cheesy rom-coms, whereas Dean meant _Die Hard_. The choice between the two falls to Castiel, who, unsurprisingly, decides that tacky romance is the way to go. 

So Sam starts up Netflix and Dean leaves just to come back a few minutes later with two mugs of hot chocolate. He hands one of them to Cas, who accepts it with a thankful nod and sips at it carefully, and puts the other one down on the coffee table before sitting down on the couch on Cas' side. 

Sam, who's sitting in the armchair on Cas' other side, looks at the mug and then at Dean. 

"You? Drinking hot chocolate?" he asks, and starts to scroll down Netflix to find a movie. 

"It's spiked," Dean explains. The redness of his nose and quiver in his tone suggests that the alcohol in the hot chocolate isn't the only one he has consumed. 

Cas glances at him, cup at his mouth, but not drinking. 

"Yours isn't," Dean reassures him. "Just milk and cacao for you." 

Cas' lips curl into a smile around the cup. 

Dean shuffles a few inches closer to Cas and leans back, frowning at the movie preview. Sam presses play.

The movie is about a big city hotshot who warms up to the idea of Christmas through his love for the awkward new coworker. Dean hates it, frankly, but Cas seems to be enthralled by it, and that makes it endurable. Dean finds himself watching Cas more often than the tv screen though, taking in his reactions to every little interaction, dialogue, and plot point. Even with the Winchester's best efforts Cas still hasn't seen many movies, and his resistance to lazy tropes and recycled plots always make watching a movie an experience. 

Somewhere in the middle of the movie Dean gets up to get a blanket and spreads it over him and Cas, who pulls it up to his neck and nestles into the warmth, getting drowsy. Dean fights the urge to stretch his arm around Cas, completely with a fake yawn and everything, because Cas wouldn't know that stupid trick anyway, and Dean really wants an excuse to get closer to Cas. 

He ends up not doing it, though, and good thing too, because he notices Sam's glances towards the couch. Their eyes meet once, and Sam's face says _Dude, stop staring at Cas_ , and Dean shoots a _You're staring too, jerk_ at him, and after that Sam mostly keeps his eyes glued to the screen, smiling to himself. 

Dean continues to look at Cas, who doesn't seem to either notice or think it important enough to comment on, which is good because Dean doesn't ever want to stop looking. He doesn't even know why. He just likes the way Cas' lips silently repeat some of the more confusing dialog, or the way the bad jokes tug on the corner of Cas' mouth, or the way his eyes seem to droop more and more as the movie progresses. He looks at the wrinkles at his eyes and feels warm inside, wondering if they've always been there or if Cas has been a human long enough to age, and he looks at the mess of Cas' hair, thinks about how badly he wants to run his fingers through it to mess it up even more, make it look wild like when they first met in that barn when sparks were flying all around them.

Cas shuffles under the blanket sometimes, and each and every time their bodies seem to be pressed together just a little bit more. Cas, who's in sweatpants and a Henley shirt he's borrowed from Dean (which absolutely does _not_ make Dean's thoughts go haywire, nope), is soft and warm and just perfect against him, and Dean makes sure not to move his hand once Cas accidentally knocks against it with his knee. 

The movie ends, obviously, with a cheesy kiss between the leads, and Sam finds himself looking over at the couch to see what Dean and Castiel are up to. They're still under the blanket, but Cas has moved closer to Dean, his eyes shut, breathing deeply, his head resting on Dean's shoulder. Dean's arm is wrapped around Cas, and his eyes are closed too, but there's a smile on his face, and Sam feels his heart fill with adoration at the sight of it. 

**iv.**

It's just a few more hours until Christmas eve, and Sam finished putting up the tree. It reaches the ceiling of the bunker; it's big and wild, just perfect.

Dean unloads a stack of decoration boxes he found stashed away somewhere onto the floor next to the tree. He wipes the sweat from his forehead, rolls up his sleeves and opens the topmost box. Sam takes a look at the contents, Dean steps back and fixes his eyes on Cas.

"Check it out, Cas," he says.

Cas comes closer and examines the decorations. There are ornaments - bulbs, icicles, ugly Santas - and colorful knick-knacks strewn all around. Cas grabs a straw star and lifts it up in front of his face.

"Put it on," Dean says. Cas glances at the tree, unsure.

Sam takes a ball ornament from the box and demonstrates putting it on the tree. "Like this," he says.

Cas' eyebrows quirk, then he puts the star right next to Sam's bulb.

"Perfect," Dean says, and at the same time Sam says "Maybe we should leave more space in between, we don't have that much stuff."

Dean grabs the first decoration he can get his fingers on (a blue and silver icicle) and hangs it on the tree, leaving a generous amount of space between it and Sam's bulb. Cas' eyes follow Dean, then he goes to grab another piece of decoration. This time he puts it on the opposite side of the tree and looks at Sam for approval. Sam nods with a smile.

Soon the first box of decorations is used up, and Sam opens the next one. This one is full of lametta. Metallic golden and silver, glittering strips, many packages of them, filling up the whole box.

"Whoa, that should be enough tinsel," Sam says and moves the box to the ground so he can open the last box too, which is, again, full of ornaments, and also includes a long string of lights.

As Sam continues to fill the tree with ornaments, Dean shows Cas how to use the lametta. He puts some on a branch, making sure to make it look natural, and not just throw them on in bunches. Cas copies him, filling another branch. Again and again, they grab some from the box while the other one is at the tree, then they switch and start again.

By the time they finally put lametta on all parts of the tree, Sam is done with ornaments and is already putting on the string of lights. He would prefer candles, but this is what they have, and introducing a fire hazard to the bunker wouldn't be the smartest thing he's done in this life.

Cas stares at the still half-filled box of lametta with a wistful look in his eyes. "What do we do with the rest?"

Dean takes some of the strips and grins. "We'll find something else to decorate," he says and lays one golden strip over Cas' head.

Cas and Sam stare at Dean, but Dean just laughs it off. "Come on," he mutters and promptly adds another strip of lametta to Cas' hair.

Sam smiles and shakes his head, turning away to make some finishing adjustments to the tree.

Dean puts another strip of lametta on Cas, who is finally starting to smile at the ridiculousness of it and proceeds to take a bunch of lametta from Dean's hand and throw it over him.

Dean can't help but break out in laughter and throws up the rest of the strips in his hands towards Cas. Cas has a big lopsided grin on his face, and Dean feels his stomach flutter at the sight. They look at each other for a moment, then - at the same time - throw themselves towards the box to grab more. Dean is faster, and he manages to unload a fistful of lametta over Cas's shoulders. Cas, with his proclivity to the dramatic, laughs out loud, and defends himself by picking up the whole box and upending it over Dean, who goes to the ground, half from the lametta raining over him, half from laughing so hard that his knees have given out. Cas chucks the empty box away and hears Sam laugh with them as Cas follows Dean to the ground. He starts picking at Dean, grabbing tufts of lametta and attempting to decorate Dean's clothes with them, which isn't easy because they're both shaking from laughter. He takes from Dean's shoulder and puts some in the pocket of his shirt instead, then picks some from Dean's hair and sticks it behind Dean's ear. Dean calms down at the touch, so Cas does too, and they grin at each other as Cas continues his work.

Just as Cas finishes and lifts his hands for a _ta-dah!_ Dean grips the front of the trench coat and pulls Cas closer. Their eyes meet, and for a second Dean thinks that Cas is leaning in, quick breaths and eyes flickering down to his lips. He panics and lowers his head and brushes the lametta in his hair off onto Cas, who laughs, huffs and puffs, and finally raises his hands in defeat.

"Okay, okay," Cas says. "I give up." His eyes glisten as they bore into Dean's.

"Good choice," Dean says, lets go of Cas, and shakes off some of the lametta stuck to him. He forces himself to stop looking at Cas, and looks at Sam instead, who's watching them not very inconspicuously.

"Uhm," Sam says awkwardly but with a smile, "The tree is done. Hit the lights?"

"Yeah." Dean stands up and helps Cas get up before walking over to the light switch and switching the lights off. Not a second later Sam turns on the string of lights, and the tree lights up in white and gold.

Cas, who has followed Dean to the light switch, gapes at it like a child seeing Santa for the first time, and Sam and Dean can't help but stare too: Sam's staring at the tree, thinking about how this is something they couldn't ever have as kids; Dean's staring at Cas, at the golden sparkles in his eyes and the bits of lametta still hanging off of him.

Cas feels Dean's gaze and returns it, and then suddenly Dean feels soft skin against his hand and Cas' fingers wrapping around his own, gently interlocking them. Cas turns his head towards the tree again, but his hand stays in Dean's, and Dean feels like his heart is about to explode into a million pieces, when Sam interrupts the moment.

"We're missing the angel on top," Sam says, nodding upwards. 

Dean grins. "You heard the man, Cas," he teases. "Get your sweet ass up there."

**v.**

They agreed on small, simple presents. 

Cas doesn't know what a "small, simple" Christmas present entails, but does his best not to go all-out. He puts his gift for Sam in a gift bag he finds in the bunker and doesn't wrap Dean's present at all. 

Dean spends a week and four shopping trips trying to find the perfect gifts. He's satisfied finally, having wrapped them imperfectly but at least completely, but suspicious of Sam for not having asked to take Baby once. 

"Don't you dare give me something self-made," he tells Sam over breakfast one day, and Sam just scoffs into his coffee mug. 

Sam is being clever with his gifts. He buys them online and jogs to the nearest post office to pick them up. When he returns to the bunker, his brother and Castiel are still asleep, so he uses the time to wrap the presents with old newspapers, which he thinks has a certain charm to it. He puts a Christmas bow on top of them as a finishing touch though, just so that Dean won't complain about them looking sad. He hides them in the giant closet in his room, knowing that Dean won't look there, and telling Cas that December isn't a good time to be snooping around. 

Christmas eve comes and goes, and after taking turns to put their presents under the tree they all go to bed in their respective rooms, Cas fidgety and excited for the next morning. He keeps waking up at night and finally decides to trot over to Dean's room, entering quietly and shaking the hunter awake. 

Dean presses his pillow over his head and mutters "... n't mornin' yet...", and Cas whispers "It's the 25th," which makes Dean look at his alarm clock sluggishly. It shows a glowing _1:22 AM_. 

"...'s too early," Dean insists, and rolls away from Cas' touch. 

Cas looks at him and ponders. "I can't sleep," he says, and there's a soft whine in his voice that makes Dean groan. 

"What'm I s'pposed to do?" Dean mumbles into the mattress. 

Cas shrugs even though Dean isn't looking. 

Dean doesn't say anything anymore, just lies there and feels Cas' eyes burning into his back. He thinks Cas is going to turn around and leave, walk back to his own bedroom like any normal person would. But of course Cas doesn't. Instead, Dean feels the bed tip towards the other side as Cas sits down at the edge of it. 

Dean lets out a questioning " _hmpf?_ ", and after a second Cas asks "Can I stay?". 

Dean's too far into sleep to make rational decisions, so he simply shuffles to make a little more space for Cas, and tries to ignore his heartbeat quickening as Cas pulls back the covers enough to slip in beside him. The warmth radiating from Cas is comfortably familiar, and as Cas settles in, Dean wonders why Cas is here with him, and why that makes so much more sense than Cas going to Sam, even though it really should be the same thing. 

He wants to stay awake, Cas at his side. He wants to pretend this is their normal. He wants to feel Cas' breathing deepening, wants to hear his soft snores, wants to notice every time Cas moves. But he's tired, and wrapped up in warm blankets, and his stomach is full with delicious self-made cookies which remind him of his baking adventure with Cas, so soon he slips into wonderful dreams about a Christmas angel in a trench coat. 

Sam is the first to wake up in the morning. He makes himself a light smoothie for breakfast, not wanting to ruin his appetite for the large meal they have planned for later. He does grab a cookie from the tray on the kitchen table though, because he's only human. The other bedroom doors stay closed, so Sam decides to finish preparing the tree, dimming the ceiling lights and switching on the tree's string of lights. He even bought a bunch of fake candles, which he spreads around the room, then he starts up an instrumental Christmas playlist and steps back to admire his work, trying not to look at the presents under the tree too closely, as to not spoil the surprise later. He sits down criss-cross on the carpet, and stares up to the tree, waiting for the others to wake up.

He waits half an hour before deciding that his patience has run thin, so he gets up and walks to Dean's bedroom door, knocking softly. "Dean, you awake?"

No response. He dares to open the door a crack and sticks his head in. "It's Christmas," he announces gently. His eyes fall on the bed, where he sees Cas pressed up to Dean's back, and clears his throat. Cas' eyes open slowly. 

"Tree's ready," Sam says as Dean begins to stir as well, then closes the door and dashes down the hallway before his brother can get a chance to throw a pillow at him.

When Dean and Cas arrive in the living room ten minutes later, Dean's face is still flushed red. Cas shoots Sam a quick awkward glance, but is immediately distracted by the sight of the Christmas tree and gifts.

Sam attempts to catch Dean's eyes, but his brother seems determined to not let that happen. Instead, Dean follows Cas to the tree and points at the tiny stack of presents.

"Time to open these," Dean says, voice still full of sleep.

Cas sits down next to Sam and asks "Who's starting?"

"I'll start," Sam says as Dean sits down close to Cas. He gets up and takes the smaller one of the two gifts wrapped in newspaper and hands it to Cas. "A little something for you, I hope you like it."

Cas hesitates for a moment before opening the bow and ripping off the newspaper. Sam's present turns out to be a bathroom set for men: hairbrush, razor, shampoo, and everything. Cas thanks Sam warmly, and promises not to borrow Sam's stuff anymore. Sam grins at him, and Cas grins back. He smells the shampoo, nods approvingly, then sets it aside and says, "Here is my present for you." He takes the gift bag from under the tree and gives it to Sam. Inside is an old, lavish-looking book written in Latin, and Dean zones out as Sam geeks about how happy he is to finally own it. Sam hugs Cas, which tugs at Dean's heartstrings, so he stands up and announces "My turn."

Sam stops him. "Wait, let me first," and presses the other newspaper-wrapped gift into his brother's hands.

Dean eyes it suspiciously and opens it. His eyes go wide as soon as the box is open. Incredulously he grabs the first thing he sees and puts it on his head. It's a cowboy hat, and it doesn't look cheap either. He grins widely. "You know me so well," he says and digs into the rest of the contents. He pulls out a dark blue bandana, a bolo tie, a belt buckle, and rough bootcut jeans with chaps, and examines it all closely. "This is great, Sammy." He holds the jeans up to himself and wiggles his hips. "I'd look amazing in these, huh?"

Sam laughs. "Sure."

Cas looks at Dean intently. "Yes," he agrees, face scrunched together, "I think so."

Dean beams at Cas' words, and promptly pulls down his pants. 

"Oh god," Sam says, and averts his eyes as Dean pulls up the new pair of jeans. He puts on a belt and the new buckle, sticks his thumb in the belt loops, and poses. 

"Sexy, huh?" Dean wiggles his toes. "Missing the boots, though."

"Yeah, well, your birthday's coming up," Sam says, and can't help but look over to Cas to see his reaction. 

Cas is still watching Dean, now with a smile on his lips. 

"I'm sure you can impress... _people_ even without the boots," Sam says, keeping his voice innocent but his eyes on Cas, who doesn't seem to notice the implications. 

Dean notices though, and licks his lips nervously. "Uh-huh," he gets out, and takes the hat off. He looks at Sam with knitted brows as he puts the hat down on the couch's armrest. "Thanks," he says humourlessly, then suddenly there's a glint in his eye that Sam knows doesn't bode well for him.

"You can open mine now," Dean says mysteriously, and pushes one of the gifts towards Sam with his foot. 

Sam quirks an eyebrow at him and rips the Christmas wrapper off. Two small packages fall into his lap. He picks up one of them, and his face falls. 

"Hair clips?" He looks at Dean, his face saying _Seriously?_ , then looks down again. 

" _Pink_ hair clips," Dean specifies, pointing at them, and Sam scoffs. 

"Thanks, Dean," he says sarcastically. "I'm sure I can find a use for them."

"They will look lovely on you," Cas says, tone entirely serious, and that makes Dean laugh. Sam can't help but laugh, too, and clamps one of the clips into his hair, and swishes his hair around like he's in a shampoo commercial. 

Cas chuckles at that, and Dean looks at Cas and thinks _Son of a bitch, he's adorable_. Heat creeps up his neck and he forces himself to look back to his brother. 

Sam opens the other package, stares at it for a second, then gapes at Dean, who's grinning at him in response. 

"A special something for my old man," Dean teases. 

It's a pair of glasses. Sam can't believe it. He looks between them and Dean. 

"I'm not old," he defends himself. 

"I see you squinting at books, jerk," Dean says. 

Sam huffs. Dean is right of course, but that doesn't make this any less mortifying. "Thanks," he says. 

Dean gets serious. "If you don't like them I can return them and you can pick a pair yourself."

"No, I like them," Sam says honestly, and puts the glasses on. They seem to fit perfectly, but they feel foreign on his face. "Gonna take some time to get used to." 

Dean's not going to admit that seeing Sam with old-people glasses makes him feel warm and safe. He's also not going to admit that the glasses actually look really good on Sam. Instead, he raises his hand in a peace sign and says "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Sam flips him off. "This many."

And that ends the conversation. Dean shakes his head and looks at the tree, and the single package under it.

"Uhm, Cas, did you forget to get me something?" Dean asks, making sure the hurt isn't recognizable in his voice.

"It's in my bedroom," Cas explains. "I couldn't wrap it. Should I go get it?" 

"Oh," Dean's good mood is back instantly. "It's fine, I'll go first." He picks up the last present and hands it to Cas.

Sam notices that Dean's gaze does not move away from Cas' face the entire time Cas is unwrapping the package.

Dean's not good with presents, never has been. Their dad's never wanted any, so all he knew was how to get things his baby brother wanted. But he's pretty proud of his gifts for Cas, and hopes that they're good enough to make Cas happy.

It seems so. Cas looks at the honey and brightly-colored bee-print socks in his lap and grins stupidly.

"I love it, Dean," he says, picking up one of the socks and examining it closer. The bee print is pretty and detailed, not cartoonish, and the golden color ties it all together. "Thank you," he says and meets Dean's eyes.

"You're welcome, honey," Dean replies, and there's a short uncomfortable pause before: "Ermm, you're welcome _for_ th-the honey." Dean clears his throat. "And the socks," he finishes awkwardly.

Cas regards him for a few seconds before pulling off the socks he's wearing and putting on the new ones. "They're very soft." He smiles again. 

Sam looks at his brother, and Dean looks back at him. There's a pause again, Cas stretching his legs out in front of him, then Sam says "So, last gift?"

Cas looks up. "Yes, I'll go get it," and walks away, eyes down on the socks on his feet. 

Dean doesn't dare look at his brother until Cas returns a minute later. He's holding something behind his back.

"I would have gotten it myself," Cas begins, looking forlorn, "but since I am not an angel anymore I had to ask one of my brothers for help. I hope you appreciate it despite that." He reveals a potted flower with a large white blossom.

Dean's eyes grow wide. "Oh," he swallows, "You- You got me a flower?"

"It's not just any flower," Cas explains. "It's from the garden," he says in a tone that suggests some kind of importance that was lost on the Winchesters. "It was Adam's first gift to Eve," he continues when he meets blank faces. 

"Oh," Dean says again. He feels dumb. Once he processes Cas' words, there's a fluttering in his stomach he has a hard time ignoring.

"I recognize it," Sam says, and pauses for effect. "It's a symbol of new love."

Cas looks at Sam, but doesn't say anything. Sam isn't an idiot, but he can be a jerk sometimes, so he makes no effort to shut up and instead says "That's such a thoughtful gift, Cas."

Meanwhile, Dean's brain short-circuits, and he's left there standing between his brother and Cas, mouth open to say something but instead gaping like a fish out of water, every possible string of words escaping his thoughts before he can say them out loud. A punch from Sam into his side snaps him out of his trance. 

"What do we say?" Sam scolds him.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean says automatically. "Really, thanks," he adds after closing his eyes for a second to calm himself down.

Cas offers him the flower pot and Dean takes it carefully, avoiding looking at Cas' eyes. He spends the rest of the morning looking at the flower whenever he felt the urge to look at Cas. Sam turns up the music at one point, and Dean keeps his eyes on Cas' gift for the entire duration of a song Cas seems to enjoy enough to hum to.

Soon after that Dean goes to prepare their holiday meal - burgers. Sam and Cas join him in the kitchen to help and chat about Sam's new fancy book while Dean flips burger patties in silence.

After the burgers are eaten, the three men return to the living room. Sam's carrying two bottles of cinnamon beer ("Disgusting," Dean comments). Dean took the eggnog from the kitchen for himself and offers Cas some of it. Having never tried it, Cas is very excited to taste it. The line of eggnog on Cas' upper lip after taking a sip definitely _doesn't_ make Dean want to lean in and kiss it off like the guy in that stupid rom-com did. And that his fingers keep brushing over Cas' hand when they've settled into the couch again, listening to Sam telling stories from their childhood, has absolutely _nothing_ to do with how much Dean wants to hold Cas' hand. And that, when they're playing Scrabble a while later, Dean keeps saying that Cas is a handsome genius - well, that's just the truth. And when a voice in Dean's head keeps saying _Kiss him, oh my god please just let me kiss him_ Dean blames it on the alcohol.

**vi.**

The day passes quickly with the help of booze, cookies, and board games. Dean just finished cleaning the kitchen and walks into the living room, finding Sam splayed out on the couch, long limbs hanging off the edges, snoring. He still has the pink clip in his hair, and his new glasses are lying on his chest, rising and falling with his breath. Dean smiles at the sight and pulls the blanket that's bunched up at Sam's feet up a bit.

When Dean turns around, Cas is standing in the doorway. His head and shoulders are whitened with snow, his nose and cheeks red. 

"It's snowing," Cas says. His eyes are soft on Dean's. "Do you want to go outside?" 

Dean shoots a glance at Sam. "Well, Sam's sleeping, I think the booze got to him," he explains needlessly. 

"I was actually hoping it'd be just us," Cas admits. 

Dean looks at him, then down at the floor. "Oh, okay, yeah, sure."

They put on their winter coats and boots (a recommendation by Dean, because Cas doesn't seem to think it necessary - he hasn't been human for long, after all) and Dean even slips on a winter hat he finds in the pocket of Sam's coat. They exit the bunker, cold wind blowing at them as they step outside. It's not late, but dark except for the single light at the bunker's entrance. They stay close to it to stay inside the protective spells and light. A blanket of clouds is covering the sky, and big scattered snowflakes fall down onto the men. 

Dean sighs, breath visible in the cold air. He has his hand buried in his coat pockets and stares at his shoes awkwardly. Cas is beside him, not moving. 

"Uhm, thanks again," Dean says to break the silence, "For the flower. It's... really something."

"Its pollen can be used for warding magic," Cas says, "In case you don't know what to do with it. I know flowers are not..."

"No, it's great, really," Dean interrupts and dares to look at Cas.

Cas returns his gaze. "I'm glad you like it." He pauses. "Sam was right about its meaning."

"Yeah," Dean says and swallows hard. "I figured." He turns to face Cas fully. 

Cas' expression is hard to read, so Dean looks up at the sky, letting snowflakes land on his face. 

Cas takes a step closer to Dean and does the same. 

They stand like this for a few minutes before Cas says "I like snow."

"Yeah, me too," Dean replies. 

A moment passes. 

"I like you," Cas continues. 

Dean's breath hitches. He doesn't know what to do, so he does nothing. Then he feels icy fingers on his chin, gently pulling down. Dean lets himself be guided, and meets Cas' eyes for what feels like the millionth time today. 

"Your hands are freezing," Dean says before Cas can speak. His words are just a whisper. 

Cas smiles at him and lowers his arm. 

Dean gathers his courage and takes Cas' hands in his own, warming them up for him. Cas leans in even closer at the touch, pressing his forehead into Dean's shoulder. Dean stiffens at the intimacy, unsure what to do. 

"You don't have to be afraid, Dean," Cas mutters into Dean's coat. 

"I'm not-" Dean starts, but thinks better of it. "Okay."

"Okay," Cas echoes and lifts his head. His breath hits Dean's neck and sends a shiver down Dean's spine. He feels Cas press his lips on his cheek, and sighs at the feeling. Cas' mouth travels over Dean's face until, finally, his lips touch Dean's. Dean lets it happen and returns the kiss shyly. It's slow and chaste and a perfect mix of hot and cold. 

Dean doesn't want to let go, but Cas breaks them apart after a moment, sharing Dean's breath, ice-blue eyes meeting Dean's. 

"Merry Christmas," Cas whispers, lips close enough to brush over Dean's. 

Dean closes his eyes, heart beating fast, and prays that his voice won't waver when he speaks. 

"Merry Christmas, Cas."


End file.
